Talking Cannibal Blues Poem by Neil Crawford
Talking Cannibal Blues
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead,
bake Feta cheese round my meaty knees,
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead,
I'd be no disaster with home made pasta,
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead
with low fat spread on crusty bread,
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead
chew my lips with a plate of chips,
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead,
boil my guts and roast my nuts,
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
Eat me when I'm dead baby, eat me when I'm dead,
you already made a start by chewing on my beating heart,
it could make a 'break well' tart...
yeah, eat me when I'm dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:45:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Use a pun and go to jail. You know the rules! Very witty with a seasoning of pathos there at the end.